


A Set Of Arms Is Just Another Constraint

by Zigglez



Category: Six - Marlow/Moss
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anne's Father is in Jail, Anxiety Attacks, Cathy Parr is autistic, F/F, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, JUST, Oops, Other, Panic Attacks, Parr is a poet, Past Rape/Non-con, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Spaghetti-O's, Swearing, Underage Rape/Non-con, Writer Parr, a lot happens in it, and as i remember, anne moved to england because of her dad, annes mother was great to her, becauses hes a dickhead, but now shes dead, but yes really, i know it is, i like catherine of aragon... i just write her better as a 'villain', i wrote this a year ago, ill tag as i go - Freeform, ive forgotten a lot, not really - Freeform, so dont come for me if the writing style is weird, the french lesson is just a massive deal in the first two chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:41:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25335562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zigglez/pseuds/Zigglez
Summary: When Anne's Mother dies, she's moved into a Foster Home with 5 other girls and 3 adults. This is her story.orAnne learns how to cope with old feelings, new feelings, and feelings in general.(im terrible at summarys. shoot me)
Relationships: Anne Boleyn & Catherine Parr, Anne Boleyn/Catherine Parr
Comments: 28
Kudos: 97





	1. You Don't Know The Real Me Though

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING : This fic will deal with rape. If that, or anything closely associated with that is any sort of trigger for you do not read. Thanks!

Anne Boleyn was well known in her school. She was the troublemaker. The class clown. The one who always got into fights. If a teacher saw her at the door, they sighed, while the students smiled. She was on first name basis with the Guidance Counseler, and if she walked out of lesson, no one questioned it.

It wasn't like Anne _tried_ to get into trouble. like that time she tripped in the cafeteria, and dropped her lunch all over the headteacher. Or that time her pen broke, and spilt ink all over her work. Both of them had gotten her into detention and they weren't even her fault.

The adults all said she was acting out, because 'she was grieving', but what did they know? It was more that just 'grief'. It was the pain of losing your mother. The pain of finding out your grandparents didn't want you. The pain of getting put into foster care. It was all that, on top of her pre-existing trauma. But it wasn't like she had changed much in the past two months. She was always loud, always spoke her mind. It just became more prominent. But that didn't matter to them. They just said and did whatever was easier for them, and moved on.

Like putting her in a foster home, with 5 other people 'her age', who had been in 'similar situations'. No one asked her what she wanted. Didn't ask if she was comfortable with it. Which she wasn't. 5 more people who could let her down. 5 more people who could hurt her. Plus there was the people who worked there. It was all too much.

_(too much too much too mu-)_

"Hey. You okay Anne?" A voice broke into her train of thought.

"I'm fine _Jane_ " Jane Seymour. The oldest one there at 17. When Anne had first turned up, Jane had sat next to her, and started talking to her about 'fresh starts', and the like. So, naturally, she had told her to go fuck herself, and had ignored her since.

"Okay... Maria told me to tell you that dinners ready" Anne opened her mouth, a 'no' already forming, when Jane spoke again. "She also said that if you say you're not hungry, she'll force it down your throat"

Anne flinched unwillingly, unwanted memories flooding her mind.

_(He was on top of her. This wasn't right. She didn't want this._

_Where was her Mum? When would she be back. She just wanted it to stop-_

_"Don't make me force you Annie" Too late. You already are._

_Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop._

_He's finished. Not much longer._

_"How about another round?" No. A car door. Her Mum. Finally._

_"What are you fucking doing? Get your hands off my daughter!" Thank you._

_"Our daughter"_

_"Get the fuck out"_

_Don't puke. Don't puke. Don't puke.)_

"Anne?" 

"Tell Maria I'm n- I'll be down in a second." Jane gave her a wary look.

"Will do" She went back down the stairs, Anne following degectably, a few minutes later.

-X-

The next day at school, Anne waited for everyone else to separate, before walking back the way they came in, and into the Guidance Office.

"Vicki I need help"

"I'm busy right now Anne. Why don't you wait outside a couple of minutes huh?" Anne noticed the person opposite Vicki.

"Oh. Uh. Yeah. I'll do that" Anne walked out of the room, and slumped into one of the chairs, positioned against the wall, taking out her phone. She looked at the time. It wouldn't matter if she was late, no one would care anyway. No one cared about her. She stood up, as the door opened, and a student rushed out, and down the hallway.

"You can come in now Anne." Said Vicki, a small smile on her face.

Anne pocketed her phone. "I have to get to class." She would make them care.

"I'll write you a pass. Come on"

"But I-"

"Now Boleyn" Anne scurried into the office, and sat down, eyes on a stain in the carpet, as Vicki settled into the seat across from her.

"What's wrong Hun? Asked Vicki, a familiar tone pushing into the message.

"Don't pity me" 

"Sorry" That's what Anne liked about Vicki. She didn't try to hide things from her. Didn't _lie_.

She looked up. "It's just... I can't open up to them, and I want to, I really do, it's just hard. Like Katherine. Howard. I told her my name, and she's been avoiding me like the plague ever since. And Catherine Aragon. She told me she came from Spain, and I thought 'Oh. Maybe we can connect'. You know, since I lived in France until... and she just walked off after I told her, sneering, then came into my room that night, and started saying that I'd stolen something from her. And I hadn't, I would never. And then she pushed me. It wasn't even hard, but I tripped over my feet, and fell over, and she just started laughing. I mean, I get it. I'm the new kid in the house, who's really defensive, and doesn't eat, and talks in French all the time, but that's not me. Not the real me at least, and I don't want to be known for that."

"Have you tried to ask them why?"

"I've tried yeah, but it hasn't changed anything."

"Well, try and show them you don't want to hurt them. Remember, they're in foster care for a reason too. Now, why don't I write you that pass huh?"

-X-

Anne paced outside her French classroom. She didn't even know why the school made her take it. She had told them she was fluent, but here she was. Hell, Anna didn't have to take German, but no Anne was stuck in French. It wasn't all bad, she guessed. At least there was Catherine Parr. Shit. Catherine would ask her why she was missing. And that was all good, until she told someone back at the house, who would tell an adult, who would tell Anne if she needed to talk to anyone, to come to them, as they we're more 'qualified'. And Anne didn't want that. Not again.

Sighing, she pushed open the door, and walked in, glancing around, and noticing Catherine wasn't in her usual seat. Or any seat for that matter. Anne dropped her note off at the teacher's desk, before sitting in an empty seat, and staring at the door.

When the bell finally went, Anne stood up, and made her way to the back of the room, grabbing Catherine's book from the shelf. She always took it home, but since she wasn't here to do it herself, Anne would do it for her. Even if it meant carrying it around all day, since she didn't have a bag.

(Her last one had been stolen, and she didn't care enough to get a new one.)

"Anne could you stay behind for a minute please, I want to talk to you." Said the teacher.   
Anne rolled her eyes. She knew what this was about. "Sure. What's up?"

"You need to pay more attention in class." Bingo.

"I'm already fluent. Oui, oui, bonjour"

"Anne" Exasperation tinted her voice. "You have to make an effort. Even if you are fluent, this still counts towards your grades. What would your parents think?" 

"I don't know. They're dead." 

"Oh. Anne, I'm-"

"Sorry? Yeah. Everyone's sorry. Always fucking sorry. It doesn't bring her back though does it? So just... leave it okay?" Anne left the room, half running down the hallway, in her haste to get away, bumping into Aragon.

Aragon gritted her teeth, and followed Anne into the bathroom.

Anne ran to a sink and splashed water on her face, fists balling as she looked into the mirror. God, she was stupid. Why couldn't she have just nodded, and left. Why did she have to make them aware. She didn't need their pity. She didn't need anyones pity. Neither did she want it. Her fists tightened, nails digging in, causing blood to bubble up, when the door slammed open.

"What is wrong with you Boleyn? You push me, and you don't even have the decency to stop and say sorry? Where you born rude? Or did you grow up like that?" 

"Get out Catalina" Muttered Anne. She was way to tired for her bullshit right now.

"I told you not to call me that"

"Why? Does it hurt your feelings? Does it? _Catalina_?"

"You fucking bitch"

"Maybe. Now, if you don't mind, I'll be leaving."

"Actually," Growled Aragon "I do mind"

-X-

Anne had spent her last period in the Guidance Office, writing an essay on why fighting was bad. It was easier to say that it was a fight, than say Catherine Aragon, a star pupil, had cornered her in a bathroom, and beaten the living shit out of her. Vicki probably would've believed her, but that didn't matter now. She was that scared of what Aragon would do next, she even waited 10 minutes after the bell had gone to go outside, and by then the bus had already left, leaving her to walk home, in the rain.

When Anne had finally gotten home, she went straight to her room, and locked the door. Anne was lucky, in the fact that two of the rooms were singles, for whatever reason, and only one other person (Anna) didn't want to sleep with someone else in the room, so, she got the other one, and was becoming even more grateful because of it. She could just hide out in here, and no one would come looking for her, or need to come into the room." A faint knock sounded on the door. It was probably just Bessie, or Joan, telling her she needed to come down for dinner, but still.

"Who is it?"

"It's Cathy. I was wondering if you could perhaps help me catch up in French? I missed todays lesson" She had forgotten about that.

"Yeah I noticed. I took your book with me too, thought you'd probably want it. I can meet you at the dining table in 5 if you want?

Cathy exhaled. "Really? Thanks Anne. I owe you." 

"It's no problem" Anne listened to Cathy's footsteps becoming fainter, before she let a small laugh escape her lips. Now where did she put that blasted book?

-X-

5 minutes later, Anne made her way downstairs, with Catherine's french book, to Catherine scribbling wildly in a notebook

"Whatcha writing?"

Catherine jumped. "Anne! I didn't see you there. It's uh... nothing important. So I'm struggling to grasp whether or not these words are masculine or feminine, and I was wondering if you could help me with them?"

 _She's using you. Say no. Take control._ "Sure. Which words?" _Idiot_


	2. And All My Thoughts Were Discarded The Moment I Saw You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK! First of all; hi? So I cannot believe that this many people actually like this? Like some of my favourite writers on here have liked / bookmarked / commented on this? And that is... surreal to me. I cannot even explain to y'all how... accepted as a writer that makes me feel? Anyway; thank you guys. So so much. And thank you to my partner, without whom I would'nt've got this out so soon (despite this chapter having already been written by younger me) because I would've scrapped it and started again. I'll let y'all read this now. (Forgot to say when I first posted this ; this is 2 months on from the first chapter)

"It's amazing Cath." Said Anne, a smile on her face.

"Really?" Asked Parr, her eyebrows coming together in worry.

"I would'nt've said it if I didn't mean it." Replied Anne " Seriously. You're the best poet I know."

"Pretty sure I'm the only poet you know"

"That just makes it easier for me to decide then doesn't it?" Said Anne as she pulled the other girl up from the seat. "Come on. You don't wanna be late for french do you?

-X-

"Today we're going to be learning about families, and the different pronunciations. Catherine. Why don't you come up to the front, and tell us about yours?"

"I'd rather not, if that's alright with you Miss."

"Nonsense. Come on. There's nothing to be afraid of."

Anne watched as Cathy slowly made her way to the front, eyes flicking rapidly around the room.

"R-Right. So. Um. My parents, they uh.." Catherine trailed off into silence, her mouth opening and closing, as she began a new sentence and disregarded it before it even came out.

Anne gave her a small thumbs up, watching as Catherine huffed a small laugh, before beginning again. "My parents are actually-"

" _Freak_ "

Anne stood up, turning around, and scanning the room. "Who the fuck said that?"

"Boleyn. Please sit down."

"No. Not until I know who said it." Anne walked to the front, standing just in front of Catherine. "Come on then. Own up. Or are you too scared?" She felt a hand on her shoulder, and looked back, to see Cathy shaking her head.

"It's not worth it." Anne gave the room one last seething glare, before grabbing Catherine's hand, and pulling her out of the classroom.

"I'm sorry Cath. I made a scene. And I should'nt've. I know. But it just made me so fucking _mad_ -" _(She hates you.)_

"It's okay Anne. Really. And I appreciate it. I'd rather not have to tell the entire class that my parents are dead." Anne's eyes widened. She didn't want people to know, and yet,

she had told Anne. Catherine Parr had opened up to Anne Boleyn. Trusted _her_.

"I get it. I mean, my Moms dead, and my dads in prison, so, not much to talk about there."

"Can I ask why your dads in prison?"

_("Make a noise and I'll kill you, you hear me? Not. A. Sound.")_

"He uh... _(You can't trust her. Don't trust her.)_...he raped me. Multiple times. It's why we moved to England"

_("WHEN I GET OUT OF HERE, YOU'RE DEAD ANNIE. DEAD. I SWEAR IT!")_

"Oh."

"Yeah... Come on. Let's get out of here."

"Anne! We can't skip school!"

"Ugh. Fine. Come on then. Mayswell do something other than loitering"

_("I'll slit your neck Annie. Just you wait.")_

-X-

Anne was sprawled out on Catherine's bed, while the other girl read her latest poem.

"But Silence is Infinity. Himself have not a face." Finished Parr.

"How do you do it?" Questioned Anne.

"Huh?"

"Come up with things like that"

"I don't know. I just do. Like... give me a topic."

"Someone leaving"

Catherine paused "Got it. Parting with Thee reluctantly, That we have never met... uh... A Heart sometimes a Foreigner, Remembers it forgot"

"Damn, that's good. Write it down" Catherine did so, her pen moving frantically over her notebook page. "Give me a topic"

"How about... the colour blue?"

"Her eyes were as blue as a day sky, as the sea with it's many fishes. At night.. she did the dishes? I don't know. I'm not good at anything." _(Useless.)_

"Hey! Don't say that. Your good at stuff like french, and..."

"See. Nothing. Everyone in this house is good at something, except me." _(Useless.)_

"I'm sure that's not true Anne. Why don't we find something you're good at. What do you like to do?"

"Make things I guess." Mumbled Anne.

"Okay. Why?" Asked Parr.

"Because... everything in my life has come apart, and having the power to create something new, which will last... I like that."

"That's beautiful Anne. Really. What do you like to make?"

"I mostly made clothes, because... we could never really afford new ones, so I always made them out of ones that didn't fit anymore"

Catherine smiled, watching Anne's movements get more and more animated as she went on. It amazed her, how Anne could be so comfortable with her when she was so defensive with everyone else. Her smile grew bigger, catching the attention of the other girl

"What?" She asked, worried. "Am I boring you?" _(Shut up. She doesn't care.)_

"Not at all Anne. Quite the opposite in fact. I think we've found what you're good at." _(Being_ fucking _useless.)_

"Yeah, me too."

A new voice broke the comfortable silence the two had fallen into.

"Hey Catherine, did you use my hairbrush this morning because..." Katherine's sentence trailed off, as she noticed Anne in the room. 

"Anne."

"Katherine."

Cathy let her gaze drift from Anne, to Katherine, and back to Anne again. There was some tension there, and she really didn't want a fight in her room.

"Yeah I've got it I think I took it downstairs with me though... or maybe into Anne's room... yeah it was Anne's room. Anne could you get it for me? Please?" She looked at Anne, and widened her eyes slightly.

"You and those puppy eyes I swear... Yeah I'll get it. Be back in a sec." Anne rolled off the bed, and walked to her room, picking the bright pink brush out of the sea of green easily.

She was about to walk into Parr's room, when she heard voices. Probably best not to interrupt a conversation, especially when it was the participants of said conversations room, but it wouldn't hurt to listen... right?

"Why are you so tense Kat? Is it Anne?" Silence. "So it _is_ Anne. Why?"

"She's a Boleyn."

"And?" 

"That means she's my cousin, and if she's my cousin she's family, and all my family hates me. She's just waiting to bring it up, to taunt me. I know it." Cousin? Katherine was her cousin? She had family? _(She'll just leave you like everyone else. Don't get your hopes up.)_

"It's because I didn't know. Sorry, I didn't want to interrupt, but I found your hairbrush." Anne handed it to Katherine. "I don't hate you Katherine, by the way"

"Everyone else I'm related to does"

"I feel that... Look, I'm not 'everyone else' okay? I'm... me. You really think that if I knew I had family that was still alive, I'd ignore them?"

"I don't know. Don't be mad at me please. I didn't mean to keep any information from you" Katherine had shrunk into her self, words directed at the ground. 

"I'm not mad."

"Y-You're not? But I-I lied. And avoided you. Surely that-"

"Look. I get it. My family is shitty. I wouldn't want to get to know most of them anyway. But if there's one thing I pride myself on, it's being _nothing_ like my family. So, why don't we leave Cathy alone, and talk. About... anything apart from how bad our family is. That sound good?"

"I-Yeah. Perfect actually." Anne led the smaller girl out of Catherine's room, shutting the door as she did so, after giving the blue girl a small wave, and reviving a smirk back.

-X-

When Anne finally collapsed into her bed, at the end of the day, she let out a large sigh, before turning over, and falling into a restless sleep. 

_She was in her old bedroom, in France. The familiarity of the light green walls, and matching bedsheet comforted her, as she looked around. She was home. Finally. A noise from downstairs startled her._

_"Annie? Are you home yet"_

_"Up here Dad." She heard his heavy footsteps climb the stairs, and stop outside her door._

_"Can I come in?" She opened the door, and stood to the side, as her Father came into her room. "Shut the door Annie." She did so, and moved to sit on the bed, shuffling as her Father did the same._

_"What's up?" Anne was worried now. Her Dad's usual easy smile had disappeared, instead, being replaced with a frown._

_"I got a call from your school today. Apparently you got into a fight. Is this true?" Fuck._

_"It wasn't my fault Dad. I swear. Some kids were picking on me, and I couldn't get away" Her words came out hurried._

_"Bullshit. You think you can lie to me Annie? I'll show you what I do to liars." His words were slurred slightly, a sure sign that he was drunk._

_"I'm not lying-"_

_"Stop talking Annie" His voice rose in volume._

_"Dad. Please-" Her Dad stood up, towering over her. She saw something glint in his hand. "Why do you have a knife? Dad?"_

_"I SAID SHUT UP!" The hand holding the knife went to her neck, pushing her flat against the bed. "I don't want to do this Annie, but you've left me no choice." His grip on the_

_knife tightened, as it cut skin._

_"Dad, you're hurting me" Her voice was weak._

_The knife pressed in more, blood flowing more easily, a few drops staining her sheets._

_"I could kill you right now Annie. You realise that right?" He didn't wait for an answer, as he backed up, and moved towards the door. "Don't make me finish the job."_

Anne sat up in bed, gasping, as her hand flew up to her neck, gripping the choker she kept there. Everything was fine. She was alive, and no one could hurt her. She was safe. 

She swung her legs out of the bed, and placed them on the floor, before standing up, and slipping out into the hallway.

She was making her way to Cathy's room, knowing she'd never get back to sleep, and that the girl was probably writing, when she heard a quiet sob coming from the bathroom.

Retracing a couple of paces, Anne found herself outside the bathroom door again, and knocked apprehensively.

"Is uh... Is everything okay in there?" She looked at the clock on the opposite wall: 4:50.

"A-Anne? I'm fine.. uh... why.. why are you not in bed?" Jane?

"I had a- Why are you- Can I come in?" She heard shuffling on the other side of the door.

"Yeah. Sure" Anne twisted the handle, opening the door slowly, as she put her head through the gap, before stepping in and closing the door behind her. She saw Jane sat on the toilet lid, and furrowed her eyebrows. "Do you wanna talk about it?" Asked Anne, as she made herself comfortable inside the bath tub.

"Not really. Could you just... sit... or lay with me?" Jane asked. "I know we're not the best of friends, but I'd rather not be alone right now." 

"Yeah. Course... Listen, Jane. I think we got off on the wrong foot, so... how about a do-over?"

"A do-over?"

"Yeah. Hi. My name's Anne Boleyn. What's yours?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked Cathy's poems..... look up Emily Dickinson! That's the original poet for them. And for Anne's... well I came up with that one... hope you enjoyed!


	3. One More Time, And This Will Be The Last

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi again

It was Saturday, and the adults had agreed to take everyone to the park. Naturally, it was chaos. Cathy couldn't figure out which book to take, Jane had misplaced one of her knitting needles, Anna's phone needed charging, Katherine was running around with one shoe on and Anne couldn't find her choker. (Catherine Aragon was sitting at the dining table with the adults, ready to go.) Most of these problems were an easy fix. Pick something for Cathy - she'd probably like it, ask Jane if she could bring her plastic needles instead, bring a powerpack for Anna, and get Katherine to put a different pair of shoes on. Anne, however, only had one choker, and it was missing. She had taken it off before she had gone in the shower, and she couldn't find it. Therefore, she wouldn't leave the bathroom, for fear of someone seeing her. Maria was standing outside the door, trying to convince her to come out, to no such luck. The only thing Anne had said was if she could look in her room, to see if it was there. (It wasn't).

-X-

Eventually, everyone was ready to go, except Anne. She had ran to her room when the hallway was quiet, and had gotten dressed, before frantically searching, for something, anything, to put around her neck. She was so caught up in her panic, she didn't notice someone had come into her room. 

"Anne?"

"JESUS. Fucking hell Cath. What have I told you about sneaking up on me!" Anne made sure to keep her back turned to the door.

"Sorry. What's wrong? Everyone else is ready to go."

She could trust Cathy. Did trust Cathy. "I can't find my choker," She said, in a small voice. "And I need it."

"Why do you need it, Anne?" Cathy moved closer.

"I just do." Cathy put a hand on Anne's shoulder, turning her around. Her eyes were glistening, her left hand around her neck, as her right hung limply by her side.

"What's under your hand?"

"My neck."

"Sarcasm huh? I thought we were past that."

"Don't fucking guilt trip me, Cathy. I'm not messing around here."

"I know. But you know that I won't judge you for anything. Ever. So, what's under your hand?"

Anne's hand began a jerky set of movements, as she moved it away from her neck, and then back, clearly trying to decide whether or not to show Cathy. Finally, she let her hand drop, as well as the tears that had been welling up for the past minute, and let Cathy see.

The room was filled with an echoing silence.

"I think I have something. Stay here." Cathy ran to her room and came back several seconds later, a blue ribbon in her hand. She stood behind Anne, and tied the fabric around her neck, making sure it wasn't too tight, and wiped away her tears with her thumb, before grabbing one of Anne's hands, squeezing it, and dragging her downstairs.

-X-

When Anne and Cathy had finally stumbled into the kitchen, the adults jumped up, and began to circle around the pair, asking questions like 'Are you ready to go?' and 'Are you okay?'

_ ("Are you okay honey?" Asked her Mom, worry present in her eyes, and the wrinkles in her forehead. _

_ "I'm fine Maman. Just tired is all." _

_ "Oh okay... You should probably get some sleep. I'll phone school, tell them you're sick or something. One day off won't affect your grades too much I don't think." _

_ "Thanks." _

_ "I know, I'm the best Mother ever. Now get your butt to bed young lady. I mean it!" Anne laughed, as she trudged up the stairs, and into her bedroom, her gaze only settling on the now dried blood stain for a few seconds, before she pulled the covers back and climbed inside) _

Anne let her gaze drop to the floor, and swallowed. “Yeah, I’m good. Sorry about the freakout guys.” Anne’s hand crept to the back of the neck, rubbing it slightly, while a sheepish smile formed on her face.

“Hey,” Cathy let go of Anne’s hand, instead holding firm onto Anne’s shoulders, and spinning Anne around 90°. “You don’t need to apologize for that Annie.” Blood started pounding in Anne’s ears, as she stumbled backwards. Annie. Cathy had called her Annie. Cathy had called her Annie, a name only her dad used for her.  _ (Come on Annie. Just one more time.)  _

“I don’t want to go to the park anymore.” Wheezed Anne, before she darted up the stairs, the sound of a door slamming a couple of seconds later.


	4. Spaghetti-O's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anne's backstory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW : Panic attacks, mentions of rape, mentions of abuse, slight talk of cancer (one line. nothing graphic)

  
Cathy paced on the landing outside Anne’s bedroom, her worried eyes darting to the painted white door every so often. It’d been about an hour since everyone left for the park, leaving only Anne and Cathy behind, and Anne still hadn’t touched the now cold Spaghetti-O’s that were sat outside her door. Granted, that was probably because Cathy had stayed sat outside her door for an age staring at them, and she was pretty sure Anne wanted nothing to do with her right now. Maybe if she wasn’t such a fucking idiot they wouldn’t be in this situation right now, and her and Anne could be playing frisbee in the park like they had planned to but no Cathy had to fuck everything up just like she always did.

Sighing, Cathy walked over to Anne’s door and lifted her palm, letting it rest on the cool varnish for a second, before shaking her head, and walking to her room, leaving the door slightly ajar, but otherwise unopened.

It felt like hours till Cathy heard the familiar creak of Anne’s door again, but the logical side of her brain told her that it couldn’t’ve been more than 20 minutes. Straining her ears, Cathy listened to the choked laughter and the rattle of a fork. To padded footsteps, and the soft brushing noise of a door opening on carpet.

“Hi.” She listened to Anne’s voice. Quiet, raw, perfect.

Cathy licked her lips, getting up from her floor. “Hey.”

“I’m gonna go microwave these if you want to join me?”

-

The loud whirring of the microwave only added to the awkwardness between the two. As did the beep that followed 30 seconds afterwards.

“That’s what my dad called me.”

“Huh?” Cathy’s gaze went from the crack in the wall she had noticed to Anne, who was focused on getting her meal from the microwave.

“The nickname. Only my dad called me that.”

“Oh..” Anne put the bowl down, and spun around to face Cathy. With anyone else Cathy would awkwardly smile and look at the floor, but with Anne, she stared at her left ear, as close to eye contact as she got.

“I think I’m ready to tell you what happened.”

-

The bowl of Spaghetti-O’s lay forgotten downstairs, as Cathy shut the door to Anne’s room behind her, while Anne cleared a space on the floor for her so she could sit down. Smiling quickly, Cathy dropped down, and watched as Anne sat on her bed, and shuffled backwards so her back was against the wall.

"Fuck. OK. This is... this is weird. And scary. But I am ready.. so uh.. please don't interrupt me? And um.. please don't touch me afterwards?"

Cathy flitted her eyes across Anne's face, and nodded a couple times.

"Shit. Right.. I was 8 when it first started. I remember he came home from work, and he was mad. He was so goddamn mad. He was up for this promotion and hadn't gotten it you see? Said some 'dumb blonde bimbo' had gotten it 'cos she was fucking the boss. Which.. fair enough? He was good at his job. Deserved a promotion. It would've helped a lot the extra money.. anyway.. my ma mère wasn't home - she had gone to get some groceries she'd forgotten, and I was getting some milk and I dropped the glass.. and.. my dad.. he.. he pushed me into the kitchen counter. And I'm small. Always have been. So it hit my neck. And I remember gasping, and gasping, and gasping because I couldn't breathe, and then he was in front of me, and he was apologising and he kept getting blurrier because I had started crying, and there was this look of fear on his face I didn't understand at the time... Things like that happened more frequently after that. Just little things, pushes, shoves, getting shouted at. And then he got into smoking, and drinking, so he'd put his cigarettes out on me, or throw the bottle caps from his beer at my face.. and then as I got older, more skilled with makeup, he'd hit me, or he'd lock me in a cupboard until my ma mere got back from work, he'd stay in the kitchen for days, and not let me eat.. and then I started puberty. And suddenly I had boobs. And he wasn't getting any from my ma mère, so.. he started making me do things. Just things like jerking him off, or the occasional blowjob. I hated it, but at least I could control it.. and then that wasn't enough, so he'd come into my room at night, and I'd wake up with a hand over my mouth, and his dick in me. And one day he came into my room, and he was drunk, and he started talking about this fight I had gotten into at school.. some kids were picking at me because I had a hickey on my neck I hadn't seen that morning.. and then he pulled out a knife. And he put it against my neck, and he pushed, and he pushed until it started bleeding, and then he left, and he didn't come home until the next day. Anyway, sometime that week my ma mère came home early, and found him balls deep in me, and long story short he got put in prison for 20 years, me and my ma mère moved to England, had a couple happy years, and then she got cancer. Uncurbable, too far for anything to slow it down.. and she died, and I got put in foster care, and.. now I'm here. So.. yeah. That's my story.." Anne glanced at Cathy quickly, taking note of her glassy eyes, the tear marks that lined her cheeks, and the fact that she was rocking concerningly fast before looking back down at her lap. "You ok?"

Cathy hummed, her rocking not decreasing in speed.

"Hey Cath," Anne scrambled to get off of her bed, and knelt down in front of Cathy. "Cathy, darling. Give me your hand."

"You said no touching." Mumbled Cathy, flinching as she realized how close Anne was.

"It's ok. Give me your hand." Cathy moved her arm upwards, having it fall limp, when Anne took her hand, letting the girl guide it to her chest with ease. "Focus on my heartbeat ok? Focus on my heartbeat. Try and match your breathing for me love? Can you do that for me?" Anne noticed Cathy's rocking slow slightly, and let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding. "Good girl. Thank you." The pair stayed like that for a while, until finally Cathy stilled, and Anne took the opportunity to open her arms, inviting Cathy to rest between them, as she had so many times before when things got a little too much. "I'm sorry I didn't notice you were getting stressed."

"I'm the one who should be sorry. You said you wouldn't want to be touched afterwards and then I made you touch me, and I'm such a bad person and I don't deserve to be comforted and-" Cathy's breathing began to speed up again.

"Hey. Just breathe. Doesn't matter what it's like remember? Doesn't matter as long as you're breathing." Anne tightened her grip around Cathy, and gently moved backwards and forwards, not making any move to stop until a few minutes later, when Cathy squeezed her hand, signalling she was better. The two girls stayed like that, sat on the floor, one of them in the others arms, until the others came back, jolting them out if their calm, with a shout of "DIBS ON THE SPAGHETTI O'S!" From Anna.


End file.
